


Resurrection

by Jerksepticeye



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, Jason is a poet, Original Poem, Talk of Feelings, batfam, they all love each other, they are all close brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 08:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17199989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerksepticeye/pseuds/Jerksepticeye
Summary: Jason is a poet and this is his families reaction.Based on the comic by doc-squash on tumblr. https://doc-squash.tumblr.com/post/181245300665/headcanon-jason-writes-poetry-like-its-actually#notes(Please check them out since their art is amazing and is also just an amazing person in general!)





	Resurrection

It was a rare sunny day in Gotham city, which of course meant that now no one had an excuse to not go outside. Especially Jason Todd-Wayne and Damian Wayne. The former being persistently annoyed by his older brother ( _aptly named_ ) Dick to take the youngest one out. Damian, not that he would admit it, wanted to hang out with his older brother who he didn’t get to see a lot. With Dick and Tim always there, Damian wanted to know Jason more than just with others nearby or on patrol.  
So there they were in a local park on a bench, Damian focused on people watching while Jason was putting all his attention on writing in a small leather bound notebook.  
“What are you doing akhi?” Damian asks unable to recall the last time he might have seen this notebook.  
“Fantasizing your deaths.” Jason retorts back, a grin on his face as he adds more to the notebook; Damian tries to crane his neck to see, barely catching a glimpse of June and Brave before Jason tilted the notebook away from his view.  
“You’re usually crying when you do that.”  
“Funny.” In his usual dry way that only took those who were close to him to know that he was secretly amused, turning his head away to glance at Damian. Noticing his younger brother’s gaze to his notebook he closed it, hoping to then try and distract him away from it but Damian was one step ahead.  
“Will you read me one?”  
“Er-”  
“Please?” Pulling out all stops, as Damian is still learning to say “please” and “thank you” and this was with an actual pleading tone that he uses when asking for another animal. Jason being too influenced by Dick ( _the older brother_ ) relented and opened the notebook back up and felt Damian crawl against his side, then he started to read.

It was a few weeks later before the notebook would be seen by another family member, this time it was left in Jason’s room. On his bedroom dresser next to his bed in the manor, the one to find it was Tim. Who was currently trying to find Jason for Dick. Who probably wanted Jason for cuddling, Tim thought and not wanting to get caught in the midst of healthy shows of affection done by his older brother; Tim had to find Jason. Quick. But, he wasn’t in his room.  
Oh well, Tim would just wait until he came back. Sitting on the side of his bed Tim saw the notebook, which seemed a bit familiar to him. Must have seen Jay with it before, glancing around making sure that the older man wasn’t hiding and would spring up catching him in the act, Tim picked it up.  
Opening the well loved notebook and seeing Jay’s handwriting filling up the pages, about half the book was filled, it took Tim longer than he would ever admit to figure out that it was a poetry book. Some seemingly finished, some seemed like they were half done, ranging from differing topics. In a way like a diary. Tim flipped the pages back to the beginning and began to read, curiosity pressing a knife to his neck and forcing him to keep going.  
“Whatcha got there babybird?” Dick suddenly appeared over Tim’s shoulder, his sunny disposition nearly blinding his younger brother.  
“You’ve got to see this Dickie, it’s Jay’s.” Tim said moving the notebook where they could both read it, the poem spanned across two pages spread out like a confession Tim and Dick swear they’ve heard before and not at all.  
For Tim it was a confirmation of his suspicions that he never dare bright to light for fear of being wrong, while for Dick it was never before heard thoughts coming to hit him full force. Two different wavelengths but same result of tears being forced from their eyes. The silence between them could have gone on for minutes, hours, days even. With both of them being to caught up in their head and thoughts.  
“How can such a big asshole write so beautifully?” Breaking the silence Dick not even trying to hold his tears back. If Jason thought he was cuddled a lot by Dick before then he better watch out because Dick is about to become a starving koala with Jason being a tree with the most tasty leafs ever.  
“I-I can’t stop my eyeball sweat.” Tim said, doing his best to deny that his older brothers work brought him to tears.  
Suddenly as Tim was moving the notebook away a piece of paper flew out; landing on the ground. Picking it up to reveal an open mic poetry night at a local cafe. The date being tonight and mixed with the knowledge that Jay wasn’t doing patrol tonight. It didn’t take Tim’s detective skills to realize that Jay was going to go to this event.  
“We’ve gotta show Dad this,” Dick proclaimed taking the paper and notebook with him before Tim could protest.

Which lead Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, at the local cafe that night. But, he wasn’t there as himself that would cause too much trouble. So, he put on another mask. Sure part of it was from Dollar General but a mask is still a mask. With a baseball cap with his companies logo on it, dark sunglasses, and a glued on goatee that rivaled Oliver Queen. He sat in the middle of the room, inconspicuous as he can be in a crowded room while people continually go up and down the stairs to the stage to read their therapy appointments out loud to strangers.  
Normally Bruce wouldn’t be doing this, open mic poetry nights aren’t really his thing; what with people actually talking about their emotions and feelings. But, after earlier when Dick and Tim busted into his study to show him the flyer for this event and the high possibility of Jason being on stage. Bruce had to go see it, especially with both Dick and Tim praising his writing (without actually showing Bruce anything so anything that Jay did would be a surprise.) Although he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, Bruce was a bit nervous. Noticing the tear tracks on his children’s faces only made Bruce more curious as to what it was Jay wrote that would evoke such emotion.  
He knew that the event only lasted for a couple hours and with the two hours almost gone, Bruce was beginning to think that Jay would never show up. Maybe he heard that Dick, Tim, and him knew that he was doing this and decided to not do it, which didn’t help Bruce feel any better. He started to think this whole thing was a bust until-  
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is our last but certainly not least performer of the night, please welcome to the stage; Jason Wayne!” The audience applauding as Bruce watched Jason come onto the stage.  
‘Alright Wayne,’ Bruce thought. ‘You can do this, just keep your composure and everything will be fine. You are not a dad, you are merely a spectator right now.’  
“Hello and thank you for having me, this poem is one of the first ones I’ve seriously written and I hope you enjoy it. It’s called: Resurrection.” Jason said into the mic opened up his notebook and began to read.

  
_“I am alive but they don’t know,_  
_I am breathing but they can only remember the time when my lungs couldn’t bear the weight._  
_I have returned home after a year of forced leave._  
_But when I knocked upon the door they_  
_refused to believe_  
_that it was me but_  
_I made them believe in me again,_  
_reminded them that the blood pooling on the ground isn’t me._  
_That while it may stain, a permanent reminder,_  
_I am washing the slate clean_  
_I am alive._  
_Father, I have come back home and I have just one question._  
_Will you accept me with open arms or have you forsaken me?_  
_I know I let you down when I jumped from the nest and instead of flying-_  
_fell until you thought that I was a goner_  
_when you stretched your wings trying to find me,_  
_all you found was a broken shell of a boy who wished he waited._  
_And I wonder, did you ever tell my brothers you loved me or was I just a cautionary tale?_  
_Was my failure the only thing you remembered, memories tinged with regret._  
_Did you miss me?_  
_Because I missed you all so much._  
_Dear family I can only hope you forgive me._  
_Because I currently cannot forgive myself,_  
_for all the pain I have caused_  
_for trying to tear my own family apart_  
_because I couldn’t hold on to the fact that you learned to move on_  
_while I am stuck in the past._  
_The blood on the floor, metal rusting over with blood, the ticking counting down the moment of_  
_destruction before you could take me home_  
_to your loving arms._  
_Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if you left me on purpose_  
_if you meant for me to die_  
_and it was a mistake for me to return_  
_But of course I couldn’t ever ask you_  
_always to afraid of your scorn even now to try to find some last bit of closure_  
_You have had to bury me then resurrect me_  
_but I keep dying again and again_  
_day after day_  
_waiting for you to welcome me home.”_

  
Leaving a moment of silence before bowing, the audience cheered with Bruce being the loudest through the tears that were threatening to spill.  
“You’re amazing!” He yelled, seeing why his children were crying earlier at the sheer honesty surrounding the event that changed Jason’s and his families life. But, Bruce also realized that he needed to talk to his son and sure it would be awkward, but he needed to let Jay know that he is and always have been welcomed home.

The moment would come a week later, after a breakout from Arkham Asylum where the Riddler, Scarecrow, and the Joker escaped. After a long battle with the whole family working to stop them by the end of the night they were back in their cells. During the battle Bruce noticed that Jason was fighting the Joker, clearly trying to hold back from killing the man. But, after a taunt from the clown Bruce didn’t have time to stop the gunshot wound penetrating Joker’s shoulder and a few seconds where the muzzle aimed at his head; before Jason turned around to help his brothers with the remaining villain Scarecrow.  
Back in the cave where everyone else has gone back up to the manor to rest; Jason was sitting on a bench with his helmet in his hands, in a clear state of distress. Bruce walked over, his own suit dirtied and cowl off he sat down next to his son. Neither one said anything at first, letting either one break the silence. They didn’t for a while, until Bruce said:  
“I’m proud of you, I saw that you were fighting… him and you held back.” Jason scoffed, “I still shot him, he could’ve bled out.”  
“But he didn’t, and you only shot him once. I know it was hard for you to do that, and you didn’t shoot until he said something to you, trying to provoke you.”  
“I still shouldn’t have let him do that,” Jason’s hands tightened around his helmet. His hands starting to shake and Bruce didn’t know why. Anger? Disappointment?  
“You’re only human son, and maybe the wound will keep him down for a while.” Bruce said in a near desperate attempt to comfort him, he was never the best at comforting him children. Never quite sure what they needed but he be damned if he didn’t try.  
“Would keep him down forever if you just let me kill him.”  
Bruce sighed, “Jason, you know I can’t let you do that. Everyone deserves a second chance.”  
Even after everything Bruce has seen and heard he still flinched the tiniest bit when the helmet between Jason’s hands shattered as he stood up, towering over Bruce.  
“Just how many chances does he deserve!? When will his ‘chances’ run out? What will be the final straw for you?” Jason started screaming, “he’s killed so many people, he even killed me! But, does that even matter to you?” Bruce stood up but before he could try to calm him down Jason starting yelling again.  
“You never cared, if it was Dick, Tim, or Damian who was, god forbid, killed by that demented fucking clown you would probably throw away those morals! I was just the mistake that came back!” Tears fought their way out of his eyes, as he turned away. “Goddamnit!”  
“Jason.” Fighting to keep his tone even, knowing that screaming after him wouldn’t help in this situation. Placing a hand on his shoulder, as Jason kept fighting back his tears that kept spilling, not wanting to break down in front of his dad.  
“Jason, you mean to world to me. I was almost destroyed when you were killed, and the day I found out you were alive was one of the best days of my life.” Jason turned around to face him, eyes red, tears streaming down his face like a faucet was turned on. Bruce pulled Jason close, holding him as Jason wrapped his arms around Bruce holding on for dear life.  
“I wish I could make it all better, I wish I could do what you were asking me. But, I can’t. I made that vow years ago but I will do everything that I can to help you. Whatever you need.” Jason stilled a bit, listening intently to his father’s comforting words.  
“You are not a mistake my son, you can ask the others, you mean the world to me and I thank God everyday that you came back. You are always welcomed home.” Jason lightly chuckled.  
“I knew that was you at that open mic,”  
“what?”  
“Part of your costume literally came from Dollar General, and your eyebrows were dark brown with a bright blonde goatee. Part of me wondered if you shaved Oliver to get it.” Both of them started to lightly laugh, moving away to look each other in the face but arms still around each other.  
“You were amazing, and if that is the first one you’ve seriously written, I can’t wait to see what the others are like.”  
“Lets not get too ahead of ourselves, besides, how did you find out anyway?”  
“Your brothers found it and told me.”  
“Ugh, fucking brats.”  
“Jay, don’t curse your brothers.” Bruce said in a slight disapproving tone, but still light enough to be teasing.  
“Yeah Jay, why would you curse your lovely brothers who only want to support you!” Hearing Dick before they saw him, followed by Tim, Damian, and Alfred.  
“Master Jason, I support their sentiments and I must say that your poetry is exquisite. I am quite proud of you.” Alfred said, a small smile gracing his face reminiscing about a younger Jason who would read every poetry book in the library. As well as performing them for Alfred as he made dinner.  
A teary smile made itself known on Jay’s face as he pulled away from Bruce to hug the old man who he considered a grandfather.  
“Group hug!” Dick yelled and before Jason could protest he felt Dicks arms around both of them and then Tim’s on the other side of Dick, then Damian’s who was next to Tim, and then Bruce with his giant arms held onto all of them. With Jay securely in the middle of the now cuddle-fest. Normally he would’ve protested, hugging not really apart of his image but right now he didn’t really care. Because, he knew that he would always be welcomed home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! This is the first fanfic/prose piece I've written in quite a while. I would greatly appreciate it if you could give me some feedback.  
> And please don't forget to check out doc-squash on tumblr and send them some love!   
> (The link once more that inspired this- https://doc-squash.tumblr.com/post/181245300665/headcanon-jason-writes-poetry-like-its-actually#notes)  
> Thank you and have a good day!


End file.
